It used to be about enjoying a spiritual occasion and good food; seeing friends and family. Instead, now it has turned to another holiday that I sometimes would rather avoid.
Usually, it would be a bigger festivity. It would have consisted of mass, dinner with my mother-in-law, T’s step-father, my parents, my sister and fiancé, an aunt, her boyfriend, and son. After the enormous dinner with too much desert, we would go to visit former church friends. (Now we are just friends.) People that we don’t see often, but love to see when we can.
But, this year, Easter will be quiet. It will consist of dinner with only my husband, my mom and dad, no mass and no visiting of church friends.
Dinner will be quiet because my mom didn’t feel like throwing a big event. And I can’t blame her. My mother-in-law and T’s step-father were invited, but they declined. So my mom took the opportunity to make it just for us. My sister and fiancé will be joining the festivities later in the evening.
And I declined on the visit with church friends. I said it was because of being at work super early the next day, which is completely true. I plan on being at work on Monday at 8:00 am, since I need to leave work before 11:00 am to go to an RE appointment, and hopefully returning to work by 2:00 pm to finish the day. But there was more of a reason that I didn’t want to go.
See, these friends don’t know of our infertility struggles. While they are extremely sweet, caring, compassionate people, I feel pulled as to whether or not to share. Why? Well, I am not ashamed of it. But, I don’t want to open Pandora’s Box either. See these friends are VERY Catholic. And while I know that they believe we should procreate – this is the same friend that told me that there is only one reason to get married and that is to have children – I don’t know if I would have to explain myself about ART. Because as we know, ART is a sensitive topic for Catholics since the Church has strict guidelines on what they determine to be acceptable procedures.
You may be wondering why this would be more of an issue this year than prior years? The reason is that the hosts are very proud grandparents of two beautiful boys. And my best friend S, who will be in attendance, is six months pregnant. (We were both married in the same year – 2002.) Now, I love to see those beautiful boys, and I am very happy for S. But, I don’t want that question to be directed at me. Especially since I don’t know if I should deflect it with sarcasm or provide an honest answer “sometimes it isn’t up to us, but to God.”
And I am reminded that I am 50/50 in the closet about our infertility. The people that know and ask about it; know everything there is to know. The people who don’t know; know nothing. Anyone who has guessed, I come clean with. Others who don’t bring it up with me, and I know that they know because my mother has an enormous mouth, I don’t bring up with them. (Mostly my mother’s family which only increases the rift between us, because they won’t talk to me about the most difficult thing that I’ve ever experienced in my life.)
All of this makes my head hurt. I wonder if it would be best for everyone to know. To be open. To gain support from real life people. To ask for their prayers. But, it is pride that makes me keep it a secret with the majority of people. I don’t want pity; I want empathy. And I can’t control how people react to my infertility, I can only control how I react to it.
Instead, I avoid these situations, so that I don’t have to make a decision. So, that I can put it off a little while longer. Yet, I know that I will need to make these decisions soon. Since, I assume they will be at S’s baby shower in May. I refuse to miss it. Due to the event, it will be a baby conversation day. But, I also know and somewhat comforted, that I will probably be too preoccupied with what is coming out of my mom’s mouth to actually socialize with anyone. I have the knowledge that my mother may have outted me to these very same people and I am fretting all for nothing.
The funniest part of this all is that I have decided that regardless of who asks about our maybe babies that I will be honest with them. Also, if we are ever blessed with a baby or two, that I will be honest that we used ART to conceive. I don’t feel ashamed about it. I will feel like we got lucky using every means necessary.
All of this makes me feel like a huge contradiction and there is a very good reason I see a counselor. Err…my head really hurts.
Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts
Friday, April 06, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
My Mom, makes me cry.
Today, I went to see the counselor. And when she asked, “How are you doing?” I answered with a knee jerk, “I’m fine.” But then remembered where I was, and quickly added, “There is so much going on, that I don’t know where to start.”
And I started to tell her about: the BFN, the insurance application, the confrontation with RE’s office, the ring-a-mar-roll of the insurance, the self imposed deadline, the up and coming baby showers, the bridal shower, etc. All the stress which has become my life.
But, I was only emotional when we talked about my Mother which came up with my cousin’s and friend’s baby showers.
Yesterday, I went over my parent’s house for dinner. T was working late, and they were reimbursing me for the stamps and other incidentals of my sister’s save the dates. So we were chatting. Reminded them that my friend S’s baby present should be coming to their home soon. (Basically, getting things mailed to my apartment is a disaster, so I often just send it to them.) The look came.
My Mother has a look of pain that crosses her face every so often. I first noticed it when we were shopping at a craft shop for my sister’s bridal shower. She saw a pregnant lady, and the look crossed her face. I noted it, and didn’t say anything. Last night, it hit her face again. Especially when we were talking about my cousin’s pending baby, and her baby shower in April. The look was full on. And I noted it again.
What hurts, is that she can’t recognize that if she is in pain, I must also be in pain. Instead of being on our own corners of pain, we could be bonding over it. We could be commiserating over the feelings of being left behind, our longing for a wanted child which may never come, and our sadness which is my infertility.
But, I am reminded that she isn’t wired that way. And I am reminded that to pursue getting emotional support from her, will only end badly, which saddens me. Another thing to get over.
On a side note, the counselor asked me if there is any way I could get out of the baby showers. Because I told her that my cousin's is causing me some anxiety. I told her, that I can't miss either. My cousin and my relationship could not stand the weight of me not going, she would take it personal. And for my friend, I want to be there. She has been a great support to me during this saga, that I wouldn't miss it for the world.
The part I didn't tell her, is that I am doing some things which will get me in the right frame of mind. Tells which I just noticed myself. When I am going to an event, which either is coming after a bitter BFN (even possibly coming) or makes me nervous. I try to find a generous gift and find a perfect outfit to wear. Check on the gifts, but I still need to figure out the outfit. :). There could be worse ways to cope.
And I started to tell her about: the BFN, the insurance application, the confrontation with RE’s office, the ring-a-mar-roll of the insurance, the self imposed deadline, the up and coming baby showers, the bridal shower, etc. All the stress which has become my life.
But, I was only emotional when we talked about my Mother which came up with my cousin’s and friend’s baby showers.
Yesterday, I went over my parent’s house for dinner. T was working late, and they were reimbursing me for the stamps and other incidentals of my sister’s save the dates. So we were chatting. Reminded them that my friend S’s baby present should be coming to their home soon. (Basically, getting things mailed to my apartment is a disaster, so I often just send it to them.) The look came.
My Mother has a look of pain that crosses her face every so often. I first noticed it when we were shopping at a craft shop for my sister’s bridal shower. She saw a pregnant lady, and the look crossed her face. I noted it, and didn’t say anything. Last night, it hit her face again. Especially when we were talking about my cousin’s pending baby, and her baby shower in April. The look was full on. And I noted it again.
What hurts, is that she can’t recognize that if she is in pain, I must also be in pain. Instead of being on our own corners of pain, we could be bonding over it. We could be commiserating over the feelings of being left behind, our longing for a wanted child which may never come, and our sadness which is my infertility.
But, I am reminded that she isn’t wired that way. And I am reminded that to pursue getting emotional support from her, will only end badly, which saddens me. Another thing to get over.
On a side note, the counselor asked me if there is any way I could get out of the baby showers. Because I told her that my cousin's is causing me some anxiety. I told her, that I can't miss either. My cousin and my relationship could not stand the weight of me not going, she would take it personal. And for my friend, I want to be there. She has been a great support to me during this saga, that I wouldn't miss it for the world.
The part I didn't tell her, is that I am doing some things which will get me in the right frame of mind. Tells which I just noticed myself. When I am going to an event, which either is coming after a bitter BFN (even possibly coming) or makes me nervous. I try to find a generous gift and find a perfect outfit to wear. Check on the gifts, but I still need to figure out the outfit. :). There could be worse ways to cope.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
My Mother
Please note that this post is not about working mothers or that topic. This post is about my Mother and my own thoughts and feelings.)
Why is that every time I talk about my Mother, I have this need to start by saying “I really love her, but.”
During my life my Mother has never been like other mothers. She worked full time, and I was her part time duty. Sadly, this is exactly how I always felt. It wasn’t the other way in our household.
She never came to school events or dropped me off the first day or came to my kindergarten graduation. She took pictures of those first school events, then sent me in the bus.
When I got old enough (about 6), I was a latch key kid. I would let myself in, do my homework, and watch TV. Later, at about 8, I was given the responsibility of caring for my younger sister who was two at the time and did until I started my first job at 14. I wasn’t allowed to do after school activities; no dancing or musical instrument or sports.
And when I say tell you these things, it isn’t for you to feel bad for me. Because most of the time, I didn’t know any better and was perfectly content. The weekends I would play with my cousins and I was a normal kid.
It is now, as I look back at it, I realize that I didn’t have much of a normal childhood compared to other people. I look at the situation and ask why? And I realize that it is because my Mother didn’t have a normal childhood either.
She was the eldest to a mentally ill Mother. As a result, at the age of ten, she was forced to be responsible for her three younger siblings when her mother was institutionalized. She grew up very early. And at the same time, there are many characteristics she has that shows me she never truly grew up either. Both resulting from this very same reason.
As I need to say this, we are far from a normal family.
And the family dynamics! They are very much set in stone and as a result, if I try to deviate all hell breaks loose. (I believe this is why my Mother is having such a hard time with my infertility.)
For all intents and purposes, I’ve always been the easy child; healthy, hard working, easy going, obedient and accommodating. For the most part, I never bothered my Mother. She didn’t really have to act like a parent, because she raised a very independent person who followed her rules, never bothered her in any way, and took care of herself.
So now that I am dealing with infertility, she doesn’t know what to do with me. I am no longer easy. I am going thru a difficult time, which she has no idea how to relate to, commiserate, or empathize.
And this is the part that makes me feel as if I have a HUGE bruise on my forehead from hitting my head on a wall.
Despite the fact that she lost a child at 8 months of pregnancy; despite the fact that her OB didn’t give her a simple shot to counter her Rh- status, and caused her to be unable to have another child for five years; despite the fact that I know, from talking to an Aunt, that she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to conceive again because it took over a year after for to get pregnant with my sister.
Despite all of that, she still can’t empathize. She can’t find any words that may help me. Instead she views my standing up for myself, as confrontational – bitchiness. A lack of compassion for her because I can’t see how it effects her – that all of her friends and family are grandmothers and how that is what she wants for herself. (She is very good at the Catholic guilt.)
My response to her insensitivity – to seek counseling, to talk to my sister (our relationship is stronger because of my mother), complain to T and realize that she is incapable of handling any of my problems. Since my role in the family dynamics is to help and not need help.
And use the same guidelines that I use for everyone else. Will setting them straight help in any way or will only cause me more aggravation. With my mother, the answer is 99.9% of the time B. As a result, except for when she asks (in a very high level way), I don’t talk about it.
But overall she is a good person. And all of those insensitive comments, hurtful looks, and feelings of inferiority – well I don’t think she intends them. I think they are her gut reaction, and instead of recognizing that and realizing how hurtful it is to me. She is incapable of seeing what she does to me.
Deep down, I know, that she cares that she wants to help. Because, here is another kicker, she will be giving me money for the insurance for the procedures. She wants to help. So ultimately, like most major events in my life, my Mother is helping me financially, instead of emotionally.
Sadly, most days I would rather the emotional support. But, I love my mother.
Why is that every time I talk about my Mother, I have this need to start by saying “I really love her, but.”
During my life my Mother has never been like other mothers. She worked full time, and I was her part time duty. Sadly, this is exactly how I always felt. It wasn’t the other way in our household.
She never came to school events or dropped me off the first day or came to my kindergarten graduation. She took pictures of those first school events, then sent me in the bus.
When I got old enough (about 6), I was a latch key kid. I would let myself in, do my homework, and watch TV. Later, at about 8, I was given the responsibility of caring for my younger sister who was two at the time and did until I started my first job at 14. I wasn’t allowed to do after school activities; no dancing or musical instrument or sports.
And when I say tell you these things, it isn’t for you to feel bad for me. Because most of the time, I didn’t know any better and was perfectly content. The weekends I would play with my cousins and I was a normal kid.
It is now, as I look back at it, I realize that I didn’t have much of a normal childhood compared to other people. I look at the situation and ask why? And I realize that it is because my Mother didn’t have a normal childhood either.
She was the eldest to a mentally ill Mother. As a result, at the age of ten, she was forced to be responsible for her three younger siblings when her mother was institutionalized. She grew up very early. And at the same time, there are many characteristics she has that shows me she never truly grew up either. Both resulting from this very same reason.
As I need to say this, we are far from a normal family.
And the family dynamics! They are very much set in stone and as a result, if I try to deviate all hell breaks loose. (I believe this is why my Mother is having such a hard time with my infertility.)
For all intents and purposes, I’ve always been the easy child; healthy, hard working, easy going, obedient and accommodating. For the most part, I never bothered my Mother. She didn’t really have to act like a parent, because she raised a very independent person who followed her rules, never bothered her in any way, and took care of herself.
So now that I am dealing with infertility, she doesn’t know what to do with me. I am no longer easy. I am going thru a difficult time, which she has no idea how to relate to, commiserate, or empathize.
And this is the part that makes me feel as if I have a HUGE bruise on my forehead from hitting my head on a wall.
Despite the fact that she lost a child at 8 months of pregnancy; despite the fact that her OB didn’t give her a simple shot to counter her Rh- status, and caused her to be unable to have another child for five years; despite the fact that I know, from talking to an Aunt, that she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to conceive again because it took over a year after for to get pregnant with my sister.
Despite all of that, she still can’t empathize. She can’t find any words that may help me. Instead she views my standing up for myself, as confrontational – bitchiness. A lack of compassion for her because I can’t see how it effects her – that all of her friends and family are grandmothers and how that is what she wants for herself. (She is very good at the Catholic guilt.)
My response to her insensitivity – to seek counseling, to talk to my sister (our relationship is stronger because of my mother), complain to T and realize that she is incapable of handling any of my problems. Since my role in the family dynamics is to help and not need help.
And use the same guidelines that I use for everyone else. Will setting them straight help in any way or will only cause me more aggravation. With my mother, the answer is 99.9% of the time B. As a result, except for when she asks (in a very high level way), I don’t talk about it.
But overall she is a good person. And all of those insensitive comments, hurtful looks, and feelings of inferiority – well I don’t think she intends them. I think they are her gut reaction, and instead of recognizing that and realizing how hurtful it is to me. She is incapable of seeing what she does to me.
Deep down, I know, that she cares that she wants to help. Because, here is another kicker, she will be giving me money for the insurance for the procedures. She wants to help. So ultimately, like most major events in my life, my Mother is helping me financially, instead of emotionally.
Sadly, most days I would rather the emotional support. But, I love my mother.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
My Pensieve
It is what my blog is turning into. A pensieve in which I hold life events and thoughts that may potentially consume me.
The latest three:
***
The future is no longer bright and sunny with endless possibilities to me. It is now, ominous and terrifying with limitations.
***
While out with my mother yesterday, I noticed that she too see all the babies and pregnant ladies of the world. Unfortunately she can’t get over her own sadness about the situation so that she can talk to me about it. Instead of her trying to empathize, she can only think about how it is effecting her which causes her to say and do inconsiderate things to me. And as time goes by, the rift in our relationship deepens.
***
My friend G last night told me that she saw my mother at a store. G was with her two children and her own mother. My mother proceeds to tell G and her mother, “No babies yet.” My mother has no idea whether or not G knows.
G and I were very close at one point, but life has gotten in the way and we don’t see each other all that often. So basically, my mother is outing me with people. So much for me keeping control of my circle of knowing.
***
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Rose colored glasses
I have no patience for people who wear rose colored glasses.
These are the same people that seem to think that relaxing will help with having a baby.
These are the same people that believe buying (a big purchase item) will cause a baby to be conceived.
These are the same people that are absolutely determined that IVF will work for everyone.
These people are so absolutely positively in their own world. The sky is not blue, the world is not round, there is no gravity, etc.
I have no patience.
My mother is the biggest offender. Maybe it is that your mother should always think that only good will happen in your life. But, frankly, it is not realistic.
Let me give you an example of her glasses.
My cousin was diagnosed with a third brain tumor. The first two weren’t a walk in the park, but the third really was the icing on the cake. My mother firmly believed that he would survive. When I told her I researched the type of tumor he had, and that only about 5% lived after the first year. She told me I was crazy and that he would be fine.
When we got the call on the day he died that he had a massive aneurysm, she wanted to know when he would wake up? I as calmly as possible said “He isn’t. This is the end.” I was the bad daughter.
Rose colored glasses. I think I’ve misplaced mine with my patience.
Really people, face up to the facts of life. Shit happens.
These are the same people that seem to think that relaxing will help with having a baby.
These are the same people that believe buying (a big purchase item) will cause a baby to be conceived.
These are the same people that are absolutely determined that IVF will work for everyone.
These people are so absolutely positively in their own world. The sky is not blue, the world is not round, there is no gravity, etc.
I have no patience.
My mother is the biggest offender. Maybe it is that your mother should always think that only good will happen in your life. But, frankly, it is not realistic.
Let me give you an example of her glasses.
My cousin was diagnosed with a third brain tumor. The first two weren’t a walk in the park, but the third really was the icing on the cake. My mother firmly believed that he would survive. When I told her I researched the type of tumor he had, and that only about 5% lived after the first year. She told me I was crazy and that he would be fine.
When we got the call on the day he died that he had a massive aneurysm, she wanted to know when he would wake up? I as calmly as possible said “He isn’t. This is the end.” I was the bad daughter.
Rose colored glasses. I think I’ve misplaced mine with my patience.
Really people, face up to the facts of life. Shit happens.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Random thoughts and some craziness
Craziness is the only word to sum up what has been going on in my life the last few weeks. Here are a few updates.
******************************
I’ve literally been angry with my body. Yes, I know exactly how stupid that sounds. I'm angry at my body but not at myself. See, I think that I’ve separated the one into two in order for my psyche to deal with the frustration of trying to conceive. Please note that I’ve never been thrilled with its operating skills when it came to the reproductive system, but the last few months have definitely brought it more into to focus.
******************************
I’ve literally been angry with my body. Yes, I know exactly how stupid that sounds. I'm angry at my body but not at myself. See, I think that I’ve separated the one into two in order for my psyche to deal with the frustration of trying to conceive. Please note that I’ve never been thrilled with its operating skills when it came to the reproductive system, but the last few months have definitely brought it more into to focus.
******************************
After reading about Large Pandas. It turns out that they too only ovulate once a year and have to resort to ART to have a child. Somehow, I feel a camaraderie with the animal. After all, I too have only ovulated once in the last nine months au natural and have to resort to drugs to get myself to ovulate. I wonder if I could get into the endangered species category and have the national community pay for my ART.
******************************
I may have found an insurance. However, I need to finalize it and as soon as I do I will share with you all what I’ve learned. Call me crazy, but I just don’t want to jinx it.
******************************
Last week, I was swamped at work, trying to find insurance and I have been put thru a ringer with my parents.
They think I am their slave and have given me several tasks to be completed by October for my sister's engagement party. One including booking flights for my Grandparents. Not a big deal in and of its self. More than willing to do it, because yes I would like to see my Grandparents. But, when your mother calls you 27 times in 7 days. Well, I’ve had it. Last three calls, my father YELLED at me over the engagement invitation list. I’m doing the script, I have nothing to do with the list. Last time I checked, I’m 30 years old and beyond the point where he should be yelling at me, especially over a wedding that is not mine!
Don’t they know I have enough stress in my life, that I don’t need them to add to it! Not to mention that stress is not conducive to what I am trying to accomplish.
Yesterday, after the SIXTH phone call and the THIRD call of me getting yelled at, T has decided to change our phone number to a private number. Yes, it does sound extreme. But, I am starting to see his brilliance in this situation. The wedding is a year away and if they are this crazy about the engagement party. Imagine how crazy they will be over the shower and wedding. Now, is the perfect time to change our number. Craziness.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
My Mother
Let me start by saying, SHE CRACKS ME UP.
The latest conversation:
Me: "Yay, T.'s Mom wants to get together next weekend, but I'll be on the crazy pill (Clomid) at a higher dosage and I'm not sure how I'll be. I think we will have you all over some time in July."
Mom: "OK, so maybe I won't call you this weekend. Why are you taking that stuff?"
Me: Shaking my head, I have no patience, but at least I am in an EXCELLENT mood. After all I am taking the BULL BY THE HORNS. "I was on it last month and you had no idea. The only issue that I had was that I couldn't remember anything for about two weeks. Besides, you don't want grandchildren?"
Mom: "Make sure that you write things down. I'll be fine without them."
Me: Laugh out loud. "I do write things down. You know that a few months ago you told me that I would be a failure as a daughter if I didn't give you grandchildren, right? You do remember this conversation."
Mom: "I didn't say that, I wouldn't say that."
Me: Laugh harder. "Yeah, you did." Laugh harder. "No worries, I luckly don't take you seriously." I also think to myself that I KNOW that you are slightly off your rocker.
Perty much the end of the conversation. My Mom, I love her. I know that she loves me, but she is the QUEEN of the insensitive statement. SHE CRACKS ME UP! On most days, the others she can bring me to tears or make me so angry that T tells me to hang up the phone. But, most of the time, I can laugh at her.
The funniest part is, that she did say it. I remember it exactly. I was trying to talk to her about things in November, while ironning clothing. Trying to have a supportive conversation, and I got that response. Literally hung up the phone on her and called my sister. We both agreed, SHE IS NUTS! Then we started to laugh, while I cried and laughed, uncontrollably.
The latest conversation:
Me: "Yay, T.'s Mom wants to get together next weekend, but I'll be on the crazy pill (Clomid) at a higher dosage and I'm not sure how I'll be. I think we will have you all over some time in July."
Mom: "OK, so maybe I won't call you this weekend. Why are you taking that stuff?"
Me: Shaking my head, I have no patience, but at least I am in an EXCELLENT mood. After all I am taking the BULL BY THE HORNS. "I was on it last month and you had no idea. The only issue that I had was that I couldn't remember anything for about two weeks. Besides, you don't want grandchildren?"
Mom: "Make sure that you write things down. I'll be fine without them."
Me: Laugh out loud. "I do write things down. You know that a few months ago you told me that I would be a failure as a daughter if I didn't give you grandchildren, right? You do remember this conversation."
Mom: "I didn't say that, I wouldn't say that."
Me: Laugh harder. "Yeah, you did." Laugh harder. "No worries, I luckly don't take you seriously." I also think to myself that I KNOW that you are slightly off your rocker.
Perty much the end of the conversation. My Mom, I love her. I know that she loves me, but she is the QUEEN of the insensitive statement. SHE CRACKS ME UP! On most days, the others she can bring me to tears or make me so angry that T tells me to hang up the phone. But, most of the time, I can laugh at her.
The funniest part is, that she did say it. I remember it exactly. I was trying to talk to her about things in November, while ironning clothing. Trying to have a supportive conversation, and I got that response. Literally hung up the phone on her and called my sister. We both agreed, SHE IS NUTS! Then we started to laugh, while I cried and laughed, uncontrollably.
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